Parallel
by Reid Phantom
Summary: All Tom wants is an explanation for how his piece of Voldemort's soul ended up in a child's body, but in the meantime, he'll be the friend Harry needs. He is Tom's treasure after all, he's supposed to protect him. Hogwarts is making it tough though. Between hiding their secret, a three headed dog, and whatever it is that's messing with Tom's magic, it's sure to be an exciting year.
1. Chapter 1

**A thank you to Nagareboshi22 on tumblr for the help in putting this together!**

**I'm putting the warning here just in case, but considering this is a fanfic for a book series that had it in the books, I don't really think It's that big of a surprise.**

**Warning: Implied child abuse**

* * *

Private Drive was an ordinary, everyday street. Some might even call it boring. Though, as with any suburban neighborhood, it had its secrets of course. Such as Mrs. Number Six, who was having an affair with Mr. Number Ten, of Ms. Number Seven, who spent her weekends sneaking one boy or another into her room behind her parents' backs. However, the biggest secrets of the street resided within number four, and they went by the name Harry Potter.

Many secrets revolved around the boy, some of which even he wasn't aware of… for now. Currently, little Harry was dealing with one of the secrets he was woefully aware of.

"Stupid freak," Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, growled as he slammed the door to the small cupboard under the stairs shut. The man continued to mumble under his breath as he locked the door and stomped away.

Inside, a boy whose size spoke just as much of his eating habits, or lack thereof, as it did his four years of age curled in on himself in an effort to escape the pain. The boy's pale skin was covered in the red patches of forming bruises.

While a few tears slipped down his face, he didn't make a sound. He'd long ago learned that not only would sobbing and sniffling earn him a worse punishment, but it was useless. No one cared if the freak was sad or hurt.

_I wish someone cared,_ he thought as he closed his eyes and curled up tighter only to straighten when pain shot through his chest. He thought about how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, even Aunt Marge, doted on his cousin Dudley. How they hugged him. How they held him and made him feel better when he was hurt or crying. _I wish I had someone like that._

Harry felt an odd feeling overtake his body for just a second, but he didn't have time to think about it as another strange thing happened a moment later. Someone was running their fingers through his hair.

Green eyes flickered open and took in their surroundings. He was still in his cupboard, but it looked... off. Even with the door and the grate on it shut and the light off, which normally would leave things pitch black, the room was lit enough for Harry to see everything. The small room was cleaner than Harry could ever remember it being and all the shelves had been emptied and filled with books of all kinds. The cupboard was also larger. The small cot that took up most of the space and his old crib mattress now seemed to be as big as the king sized bed up in Uncle Vernon's room. Which meant there was plenty of room for Harry's _guest_.

Sitting next to Harry on the bed was a tall, thin boy. He looked a year or two older than Harry and wore black trousers and a plain, dark green shirt. Like Harry, he was pale with jet-black hair, although the boy's hair was straight and laid neatly against his head unlike Harry's naturally messy locks. The boy's eyes were dark grey and focused completely on Harry's face as his long, thin fingers combed through Harry's hair.

"Wh-who are you?" Harry asked, attempting to sit up, only for the older boy to put his hand on his shoulder and gently push him back down.

"Don't move, you'll only make your injuries worse," he said softly. "My name's Tom, Harry. It's nice to meet you."

"Where did you come from? What happened to the cupboard?" Harry whispered, listening for Uncle Vernon. The four-year-old could hear the living room television, but it sounded far away instead of a bit outside the cupboard door.

"Where I came from is a rather long story, one I don't think you're ready for. To put it simply, you needed me, so now I'm here," Tom said. His hand began trailing down Harry's body, never actually touching the smaller form. Harry watched as the older boy mumbled something in another language under his breath before pulling his hand back. Tom smiled and said, "As for what happened to the cupboard… nothing. The cupboard is exactly as it's always been. What you see around us was created by myself to give us an area for us to live together in within your head. It only looks like the cupboard because I wanted to base it on the place you felt most comfortable in."

"Within my - So none of this is real?" Harry whispered and curled up again, barely noticing that he no longer felt any pain.

"Well, I didn't say that," Tom said with a smirk. The older boy pulled Harry up so that they were sitting next to each other, Tom's arm around Harry's shoulders. "This place is very much real. Just as real as your thoughts or memories." Tom gestured with his free hand to the books on the shelves. "This place is also a safe haven. As long as that door is shut and locked, no one will be able to hurt your mind." He resumed running his fingers through Harry's hair.

Harry smiled and closed his eyes. He relaxed into the motion until it disappeared. When he opened his eyes, he was once more in his small, dark cupboard. He sighed and turned on the light. He froze as he caught sight of his arm. His bruise free arm. He was sure Uncle Vernon had grabbed his arm strong enough to bruise. And hadn't he had an old one on that arm that hadn't healed yet. He also couldn't feel that pain in his chest he had felt earlier.

_Don't worry, little treasure. I'll protect you, _Harry heard Tom say.

* * *

Tom sat back against the wall of the mind-world with a frown. Despite what he had told Harry, he wasn't to sure how he'd gotten here. He knew some things. He knew his name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, or more specifically, he was a piece of Voldemort's soul. He knew Voldemort was a dark wizard that had sought immortality and power. He knew Harry was his treasure, the thing that protected him and he protected. He knew that this made Harry a horcrux, a receptacle prepared by dark magic in which the dark wizard had hidden a fragment of his soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. He also knew that his little treasure was also a wizard as it had been a burst of accidental magic from Harry, caused by both his physical and emotional distress, merging with the magic of his piece of soul that had given Tom consciousness. He could also remember some simple spells, like the ones he used to heal Harry.

What he didn't know was _why_ Harry was a horcrux? Why would Voldemort turn a defenseless child into a horcrux? And why would he leave him in the hands of Muggles of all people? Voldemort had hated Muggles, hadn't he?

Tom glanced towards the shelves and moved towards them. _Perhaps Harry's memories could shine some light on the situation, _Tom thought, grabbing one of the books.

* * *

**For those who would like a more expanded explanation for how Tom came to be: My headcanon for why the horcruxes have such a vast difference in levels of sentience is their intent. For this explanation, I'm going to exclude Nagini (because we don't have any sign of how sentient she was pre-horcrux so we can't tell how much of her sentience is the horcrux and how much is just her) and the ring (as we never get to see it in action) and focus on the other five. In the books and movies, the diary is shown to be completely sentient from the start, while the locket only shows a bout of sentience right before it's destroyed. Meanwhile, the goblet and diadem _never_ show sentience and the closest thing to sentience Harry's shows is when we see the Voldy fetus during the King's Cross limbo scene. I believe this is explained through Voldemort's intentions when creating them. When he made the diary, he had intended for it to be used to re-open the chamber of secrets. So it had enough sentience to be able to speak with the one whose hands the diary fell into so as to instruct (read as: possess) them to open the chamber. On the other hand, the locket, goblet, and diadem had only been created to act as horcruxes. So their sentience was never meant to exceed "protect, protect, protect." The only reason the locket's sentience reached as high as it did (enough to lash out at Harry when he dove for the sword and to attempt to distract Ron when he was going to destroy it) was because it spent massive amounts of time around Harry, Hermione, and Ron, feeding on their emotions. As for Harry's, his horcrux was created accidentally, and therefore possessed no intent. This left the piece of soul in a sort of stasis, effectively possessing no sentience. Though, of course, it still affected his magical core, allowing Harry to speak parseltongue and creating the natural legilimency bond between Harry and Voldemort.**

**How this headcanon influences the story is that Harry's burst of accidental magic mixed with the magic of the horcrux and tricked the horcrux into thinking it had its intent. The odd feeling Harry felt was the magic in the horcrux settling as it "woke up" and formed its sentience, Tom. As the accidental magic had been based around Harry's longing for a caretaker sort of figure, that was what Tom's sentience was based around. This is why Tom no longer possesses almost all of Voldemort's memories, though retains knowledge of a few simple spells that could aid him in protecting Harry while at the same time not throw up too many flags at the Ministry since Harry's both underage and untrained. He does have a few less than simple spells though; such as the occlumency he used to create their "safe haven" which is undetectable apparently since Draco learns it over the summer without consequences from the ministry and apparition (which apparently underaged, untrained wizards can get away with since it infers in the books that Harry used it sometime before the incident at the zoo.)**

**Tom is going to be vaguely based around that short peak at Lil' Riddle that's shown in Half-blood Prince. Though he's not as malicious, it's mostly because Harry's there and he has to worry about the golden boy's conscience and feelings and not because he doesn't like the idea of torturing the Dursleys to teach them a lesson. Of course, he's nowhere near Voldemort's level of sadistic-ness. I also based Tom's attitude towards Harry a little off how we see Voldemort treat Nagini. He sees Harry as a "treasure", something that's his to protect and take care of. He is quick to lash out at anything he considers a threat to Harry (though he is held back from doing anything serious, again, by Harry's more forgiving nature), while suspicious of anyone that treats Harry nicely (justifiable, considering their past). On the other hand, Harry will come to view Tom as a pseudo big brother; someone that's there for him when he needs them, but also has a tendency to get him in trouble.**

**Wow, this turned out longer than I expected. Cookie to you if you actually read all this!**


	2. Un-Accidental Magic

Cue the growing up montage, aka the "accidental" magic montage. This is mostly filler, but it shows how Harry and Tom's system works, gives a few clips to their life pre-Hogwarts, and gives a little story to the bouts of accidental magic Harry talked about in the books, though some of them aren't so accidental anymore. Bad Tom!

* * *

_We've got bad enough luck as it is. Please don't break the mirror._

Toms eyes narrowed even further. _How dare that vile woman do this to us!_

_You think I'm not mad too? Just think how everyone's going to laugh! It's not like we were popular to begin with, what with the clothes and glasses and Dudley's threats, but this will just make it worse!_

_Scaredy cats,_ Tom thought with a huff. _It's not like the idiot would be able to get away with turning _them_ into punching bags._

_The _point _is that as mad as we might be, breaking the mirror would only cause more problems, not less._

Tom sighed and nodded in agreement as he went back to cleaning the bathroom. Once finished, he slipped into the kitchen and ate the small "dinner" Petunia had left out. _If you can consider a slice of bread and a piece of ham dinner. _He ignored Dudley's stupid snickering as he washed the dishes and only allowed his glare to show once he was hidden in the cupboard under the stairs.

His hand came up to ruffle his bangs, the only real hair that was left on his head after Petunia had taken her scissors to the messy black locks. A thought crossed Tom's mind and he curled a strand of hair around his finger.

_No! _came the response to his thought.

Frowning, Tom closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was back in Haven, as Harry had taken to calling it. Harry's arms were crossed and he was glaring up at the older boy.

"What?"

"Don't do it! You know how Aunt and Uncle get when you do freaky things!"

"I'm not a freak and neither are you," Tom growled. Oh, how he wanted to teach Vernon a lesson for calling Harry that.

"Right, because normal people have big brothers inside their heads that occasionally take over their bodies and can heal broken bones in seconds," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Perspective, little treasure. It's all about perspective. For some, we'd be completely normal and your psychopathic relatives would be the abnormal ones."

"Whatever you say, bro, but that still doesn't change my mind. No fr- No superpowers," Harry said, poking Tom in the chest.

Tom snorted and sat down on the bed, pulling Harry down with him. "They're not super powers either, treasure, but I suppose that's close enough." He chuckled as he ran his hand over Harry's nearly bald head.

Harry smacked his hand away as his face scrunched up. "How come _you're_ hair isn't messed up?"

"Because your mental body is molded after your physical one while mine is of my own design as I don't possess a physical body." Not completely true. His body was actually modeled after what Voldemort looked like at his age, currently seven, and continued to age accordingly so that he always stayed a year older than Harry. He couldn't exactly explain that to Harry though.

"Unfair," the younger boy huffed, crossing his arms again.

Tom chuckled and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. "Hush, treasure, and let me fix everything."

Harry grumbled under his breath, but did nothing to stop Tom from casting the simple hair-growth spell.

* * *

Tom tried to keep the surprised look on his face as he walked into the classroom, he really did, but once the kids that had entered before him started laughing, he couldn't hold it together anymore. Standing at the front of the class was old Mrs. Rosemary, a woman that Tom thought looked far too old to still be teaching, wearing her blonde hair up in a beehive style, except it wasn't her hair and it wasn't blonde.

In Tom's defense, when he had broke into the room during recess (though the use of an unlocking spell on the door) to prank the horrid teacher who had dared to punish _Harry_ because Dudley had poured bright blue paint on the raven-haired boy, he had just planned to fill the chalk board with rude drawings of the permanent variety. That was before he accidentally discovered the woman's wig in a box on her desk, however. A part of Tom had scolded himself for not realizing the hair was a wig before while the other part cackled as he waved his hand over the wig, casting a color change charm to turn the wig the same bright blue color of the paint Dudley had poured on Harry. Harry had been surprisingly quiet through the adventure. Tom put it down to the fact that there was no way the woman could know it was them. Tom knew he craved revenge just as much as Tom. Harry just didn't have the heart to go through with it most of the time.

Tom quickly ducked his head and sat down like his fellow students as Mrs. Rosemary glared at her class. He was just about to pull out his textbook when a bony hand wrapped around his upper arm. He looked up and forced down the laughter that threatened to spill out at the flash of blue. "Yes, Mrs. Rosemary?"

The woman said nothing as she pulled him to his feet and held out a slip of paper.

Tom forced his eyes not to narrow as he _innocently_ asked, "What's this for, ma'am?"

"For my hair, Mr. Potter. Now move along, to the headmaster with you." the teacher said, shoving the note into his hand and walking back to her desk.

Now Tom did scowl. "Me? Who says I had anything to do with your hair? How on earth would I have turned your hair blue? What proof do you have?"

"How on _earth_? I don't know, _child_," Mrs. Rosemary said and Tom noticed her hand come up to brush the cross necklace she wore. "I know it was you, though. I don't need proof. Now go, Mr. Potter!"

Harry, sensing Tom's rising temper, quickly took over. He bowed his head and grabbed his things before shuffling out of the room to the sound of his fellow students chuckles.

Meanwhile, Tom closed his eyes and crossed his arms, trying to shove down his anger before Harry's magic picked up on it and accidentally set fire to the school or something.

_Oh, that woman would probably just get a kick out of us going Carrie on this place. Cruel, vile, cross hugger always staring at us like we're something disgusting and terrifying! She's just like the Dursleys! One time! One time she catches us in the bushes talking to some little pet snake that escaped from a home nearby and suddenly we're the host to the antichrist! Kids bark at dogs and meow at cats all the time! How is that any different from us hissing at a snake?_

Tom ignored the fact that she had been right about him being the one that turned her hair blue. And if he also ignored the fact that Harry _was _technically possessed by something, well... He's not the devil so it doesn't matter!

* * *

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Not looking up from the book he was reading, some memories from Harry's time before his parents had been killed by some weird snake-faced guy, he said, "I told you already, it wasn't me."

"It had to be you!"

"Trust me, if she had tried to stuff me in that revolting thing, I would have done much worse than shrink it. But I didn't, because _you_ were the one in charge."

"You don't have to be in charge to use your superpowers!"

"No, but I do have to have access to the outside world, which I only have when either I'm in charge or neither of us are."

"Well then what happened? Because I'm not buying that 'shrinked in the wash' nonsense Aunt Petunia sold herself."

"I'm guessing it was _your_ superpowers." When a few moments passed in silence, Tom looked up to see Harry staring at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"_M-my_ superpowers? _I_ have superpowers?"

Tom raised an eyebrow at the boy. "You honestly didn't think I was the only one with powers, did you?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shrugging, Tom turned back to his book. "I figured you already knew; the fact we share a body was seemed like a pretty big hint. Besides, it's not like you know how to use them and considering how often you complain about _me _using them, I didn't think you'd want to use them yourself."

Harry frowned, but conceded the point.

* * *

_I can't believe you did that! Are you mad? We're dead, so dead!_

"Oh calm down, treasure. It's not that bad."

_Not that - We're on the _roof_, you nutjob! You teleported us onto the roof!_

"Would you have preferred I let Dudley catch us?"

_Considering what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are going to do to us when we get down, yeah, a little bit._

Tom frowned at the reminder. He crossed his arms and glared up at the sky from his position lying down on some metal contraption - part of the air conditioning system? - up on the roof of the school's kitchens. "I hate them. You know, I could always -"

_No._

It was a fight they had often. Tom didn't understand why Harry was so against it. He wasn't going to kill the Dursleys, just teach them why they shouldn't treat their nephew like scum.

There was a clunking sound and Tom looked off to the side. _Looks like they finally found a ladder,_ he thought, sitting up.

_We're so dead._

_You know -_

_No!_

* * *

_Isn't this cannibalism, feeding a pig bacon?_

Harry held back a snort as he set plates of egg and bacon on the kitchen table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. The day was Dudley's eleventh birthday so the table was covered in presents. Dudley looked very much like a "pig in a wig", as Harry liked to say, as he counted his presents.

"Thirty-six," the large boy said, frowning up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

_Selfish, greedy, cannibalistic pig._

_Like you're one to talk about being selfish, Tom._

_I care about your well being. How's that selfish?_

_Because you share my body._

Harry could feel Tom rolling his eyes.

Outside of the two's mental conversation, Aunt Petunia was trying to calm Dudley down. "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present. See, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?''

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty..."

_Idiot._

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

_He's fat just like his father too._

Harry snorted into his milk, gaining him a glare from Uncle Vernon.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, and sixteen new video games. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

_Oh thank god! That woman's insane!_

Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry and Tom hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made them look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Harry always had a hard time keeping Tom from causing trouble whenever they were over there.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty or deal with Tom's attitude again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

_Hate isn't strong enough a word. She sicked her bulldog on us last time, in case you forgot. At least the feeling's mutual._

"What about what's-her-name, your friend... Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully. _We'd be able to watch what we wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer._

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry.

_I might._

_Shut up!_

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "and leave him in the car."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."

Dudley began to cry loudly. He wasn't really crying, it had been years since he'd really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically and a moment later Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly." _And you better not either._

_Don't you trust me, treasure?_

_Nope._

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Inside Haven, Harry felt Tom flinch. _Oops._

Harry went to ask what Tom meant, but it was driven from his mind when Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of them as he turned right around in his seat and yelled, "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," deadpanned Harry. "It was only a dream."

Unnoticed by Harry, Tom glanced over towards the book he had been reading last night while Harry slept. He'd have to be more careful about when he interacted with Harry's more magical memories.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. Tom was quick to point out that it also looked much smarter than Dudley.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. Harry sat back and let Tom take over since he liked reptiles, snakes in particular. It was cool and dark in the building, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can, but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Tom moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake.

_Maybe it died of boredom, no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It's worse than our situation. At least we get out sometimes._

_He, little treasure. The snake's a boy._

_How can you tell?_

Tom didn't answer, instead he said, "Hey there, friend. That was a funny trick you played on that idiot."

The snake suddenly removed his tail from where it had been resting over his face. Slowly, very slowly, he raised his head until his eyes were on a level with Tom's.

He nodded.

Tom chuckled as the snake jerked his head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised his eyes to the ceiling. He gave Tom a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Tom murmured through the glass. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from?" Tom asked.

The snake jabbed his tail at a little sign next to the glass. Tom peered at it.

**Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed his tail at the sign again and Tom read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see. So you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook his head, a deafening shout behind Tom made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Tom in the ribs. Caught by surprise, he fell hard on the concrete floor.

Tom growled and glared up at where Dudley and Piers were pressed up against the glass.

_Don't - _Harry tried, but it was too late. Dudley and Piers leapt back with howls of horror as the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank vanished.

The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past Tom, a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanks, amigo."

"No problem," Tom whispered. _We should get a snake._

_I hate you._

* * *

Before anyone says anything about me bagging on religion with Mrs. Rosemary, let me just say I, myself, am Christian. My father is the pastor of the church I go to. I've been a part of the religion since I was about six (that's around fourteen years, FYI). I have NOTHING against the religion. Mrs. Rosemary came about because, as I've said, my dad's a pastor, so I've met people who take things way too far sometimes and I was kind of curious what would happen if someone like that was in the HP world.


	3. Wizards and Alleys

Harry looked up from his book. When he saw that his brother was still pacing the room, he rolled his eyes. "Would you just make up your mind already?"

"No I won't _just make up my mind already_. This is your first bedroom. I want it to look perfect."

"It's not like anyone would see it." Harry froze and looked up at Tom. "Wait, this isn't affecting the actual room, is it?" When Tom did nothing more than stare at the wall in contemplation, Harry continued. "Because Uncle Vernon's already going mad over those bogus letters. He'll completely loose it if he finds out we pulled a top to bottom makeover on our room."

It was true that Uncle Vernon had been acting insane. Harry was just lucky he had listened to Tom that first day and slipped the letter into his cupboard instead of bringing into the kitchen. Judging by how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia acted when Dudley had grabbed the mail the next day and announced to the world that Harry had mail, Harry doubted he would ever have gotten a chance to read it had he brought it to the kitchen instead. He did not know why they were overreacting so much over some prank letter about Harry being accepted to a fake magic school, but he was not about to ask. After all, as far as Uncle Vernon knows, Harry has not seen what was in the letters. Tom said it was probably because the letters fell under the category of Harry being "freaky" and Harry figured that worked.

One good thing came out of the whole disaster though. Uncle Vernon had given Harry Dudley's second bedroom after the first letter, that Uncle Vernon knew about, came. Around a day later, Harry had entered Haven to see that it had changed from the cupboard to an exact replica of their new bedroom. Tom had taken it upon himself to redecorate after it was made clear that Harry could not care less. The older boy had spent all of Saturday pacing in Haven as he tried to come up with a design.

"Why do you seem so certain the letters are fake?" Tom asked. "It's not like we're normal or anything."

"Just because we have superpowers doesn't mean we're magical."

"You're the one that calls them superpowers."

"Still, magic? There's no such thing as magic."

"Whatever you say, treasure," Tom muttered as he waved his hand.

The room rippled and Harry jumped when the bed he had been laying on began to shake. Harry watched in amazement as the wooden frame of the bed became wrought iron. Harry jumped off it and looked around. The desk was now situated under a window that was twice as big as before and had simple silver curtains. The desk itself had received a facelift, fixed of all nicks and blemishes and stained a dark brown just a few shades lighter than the new near-black hardwood floor. A matching wood desk chair sat in front of it in place of the old, wobbly one. The shelves had been stained the same color as the desk and had the image of snakes carved into them. Like it had been for the cupboard, the shelves had been emptied and filled with the books that represented Harry and Tom's memories. The walls and ceiling were a deep emerald color. The bed was dressed with silver sheets, a black bed skirt, an emerald comforter, matching pillowcases, and a simple black afghan folded and set on the end. The wardrobe and door had received the same treatment as the desk with shiny new silver door knobs, but the wardrobe also now had the same rose vine design as the head and footboards of the bed carved into its doors. Last was Dudley's old silver alarm clock that had been repaired and sat on the desk next to the simple silver desk lamp.

Before either boy could say anything, a muffled banging echoed through Haven. As one, the two looked at the window, which opened slightly at the boys' silent commands to allow Aunt Petunia's voice in.

"- up! Get working on breakfast!"

"I'll be right there," Tom said, and the words echoed through the window in Harry's voice.

When nothing else was said, the window shut and locked itself.

"Well?" Tom asked, turning back to Harry and gesturing around the room.

Harry glanced around the room again and thought about the question. The colors and snakes were very Tom, but roses were Harry's favorite flowers, especially the climbing roses that had covered up the walls of their old primary school's garden fence, and he'd always liked the look of wrought iron.

"It's nice," Harry answered smiling at Tom.

"Good," Tom said, smiling as well, before making a little shooing motion at Harry. "Well, go on now. The slave masters need their food."

Harry rolled his eyes before closing them. When he opened them, he groaned. He almost would have thought he was still in Haven if it wasn't for the absence of Tom and Dudley's old, broken toys and unused books cluttering the shelves.

_You are so dead, bro._

_You said you liked it!_

Harry groaned again and grabbed a pair of socks from his new wardrobe before heading out the door.

_At least it's Sunday. No mail on Sunday so Uncle Vernon shouldn't be too crazy,_ Harry thought.

* * *

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. Hogwarts... As in...

"R-right, nice to - uh - meet you." He held out his hand and the giant man in front of him nearly shook his small body with the force he put behind the handshake.

As Hagrid started talking about tea and messing with the fireplace, Harry looked in on Tom. The older boy was sitting sideways in the desk chair so that his legs hung over an arm with a slice of cake on a plate in his lap. The slice had come from the marble cake Tom and Harry had been using to celebrate Harry's birthday. Harry had just blown out the candles at midnight when the giant man had knocked down the door to the shack Uncle Vernon had rented to escape what Tom had begun to call "Letter-geddon." It seemed whoever was sending the letters was really determined to get a response from Harry.

Which brings us back to the part where the giant man apparently works for this Hogwarts school.

Tom looked up and sighed as he realize how upset Harry seemed to be. He quickly took over to give Harry a little time to calm down.

He watched giant man (Half-giant perhaps? Yes, that seems likely) prepare tea and sausages. He caught Dudley fidgeting at the edge of his vision and rolled his eyes when Vernon said, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' any more, Dursley, don' worry," the half-giant chuckled darkly and Tom decided he liked this Hagrid person.

Tom hid his smirk behind a smile as he accepted an offered sausage. He ate a few bites before saying, "Well then, Mr. Hagrid, as you said you were from Hogwarts, I'd have to assume you are here for some reason that concerns my acceptance to the school. However, I'm not quite sure what your reason is. Though I'm grateful you're here, as I've no idea how I was supposed to reply to my letter as there was no return address or contact number or even if a response is what was implied when the letter said 'we await your owl', I'm rather doubtful my lack of response is what summoned you here as the letter mentioned July 31, which is today as of a few moments ago. Although I had expected actions to be taken, I didn't think it would happen until tomorrow at the earliest."

Tom rather enjoyed his audience's shock stares, though Vernon's half surprised, half furious glare was his favorite.

The half-giant cleared his throat before saying, "Please Harry, just call me Hagrid. Everyone does. As for yer letter - uh - that kinda is why I was sent. See, Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts, was worried that yeh hadn't said nothin' and considerin' who yeh are, he asked me ta come check up on yeh. McGonagall had actually been worried yeh hadn't even been gettin' yer letters, and considerin' what these Muggles are like, I thought she was gonna be right."

_Muggles?_ Harry asked.

_The normal ones, people without magic._

_... How do you know that?_

_Your memories, your parents had been magical as well._

_But I can't remember anything from before I came to the Dursleys'. I can barely remember anything from before I met you!_

_Just because you can't access those memories normally doesn't mean they don't exist and aren't accessible through _our_ means._

_So then I can see what my parents were like!_

_Of course. I could show you some other time, but you'll have to excuse me if I don't give you free reign, treasure. There are some memories best left forgotten._

_What do you mean?_

Tom ignored the question and instead told Hagrid, "That was a rather excellent guess, considering if I hadn't had the forethought to hide the first letter you sent before my relatives had seen it, I doubt I would ever had had the chance to read one of them."

Hagrid glared at the Dursleys and Tom felt his smile become lighter. It was nice knowing there was someone else out there who disliked the Dursleys for what they did to Harry, though he doubted the half-giants feelings came close to the loathing Tom felt for the three.

"Knew yeh weren't givin' 'im 'is letters. Did they even tell yeh about Hogwarts? Yeh musta wondered where yer parents learnt it all?"

Tom widened his eyes in mock surprise, "I was unaware my parents knew magic."

_Liar._

_Technically, you _didn't _know and since I'm supposed to be you, not really a lie._

"'Do you mean ter tell me," Hagrid growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy - this boy! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?"

"Well, I wouldn't take it that far," Tom huffed. He was no idiot and neither was Harry.

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About _our _world, I mean. _Your _world. _My _world. _Yer parents' world_.

"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad. I mean, they're _famous_. _You're _famous."

Now _that_ was news to Tom. "Famous? Why would we be famous?"

"Yeh don' know... Yeh don' know…" Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Tom with a bewildered stare.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. "Stop! Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell

the boy anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

Tom narrowed his eyes at the Dursley's. "You knew about all this - this magic stuff?" He had always figured the muggles had been simply unaware of their family's more magical side, but if they had _known_ - and if they had _punished _Harry for it…

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "_Knew_! Of course we knew! How couldn't I, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like yours and disappeared off to that - that _school_! She came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was, a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that! They were proud of having a witch in the family!

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you. Of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as abnormal. Then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Tom felt himself jerk backwards as Harry forcibly took control to shout, "'Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked and Tom silently agreed. As far as he was aware, Harry's parents had simply been killed by a dark wizard. That was hardly fame worthy… right?

The anger on Hagrid's face was replaced with anxiety. "I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone's gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

"He's not going! We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," Hagrid said throwing a dirty look at the Dursleys before focusing back on Harry.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh. Mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..." He stared into the fire for a few seconds and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with -with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"

"Who?"

"Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..." Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.

"Nah, can't spell it. All right. Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered and Tom felt his whole body freeze up.

While Harry listened as Hagrid continued telling the story, Tom was inwardly freaking out, while simultaneously keeping said freaking and his thoughts from Harry. He was the one - No, Voldemort was the one - But he was Voldemort - Or at least he used to be - But he's not now - Is he? Tom shook his head. No, he's not. Not now. But why had he - VOLDEMORT wanted to kill Harry? And how had that ended with Harry becoming a Horcux instead? Nothing made sense. One thing was certain though, Harry could _never_ learn of Tom's connection to Voldemort!

Tom noticed one of the books on the shelves, Harry's earliest memories, shaking and the faintest hints of green light began to show through the pages as Hagrid's words began to activate a faint memory within it's pages. The boy glared at the book and it immediately stopped. Harry definitely did not need to remember anything about _that_ night right now.

Finished with the story, Hagrid watched Harry sadly. "Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry and Tom jumped; they had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched. "Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled. "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured. As for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion. Asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types. Just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley. I'm warning you, one more word..."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry, I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see. He was gettin' more an' more powerful. Why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on. I dunno what it was, no one does. But somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Harry looked down at his hands. A wizard? Magic? This all seemed so… unbelievable. But Tom said it was true (and oh would they be having a long conversation about keeping things from each other later) and it would explain how he and Tom were able to do everything they do. Yeah, Harry supposed he could believe magic.

"So, er, Hagrid. Would you be able to explain a few things? Like where I can get the supplies on my list and the thing about waiting for my owl and -"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from a pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, a roll of parchment, and a familiar envelope. "This is yours, of course. Brought it just in case."

Harry took the envelope, which looked exactly like all the others, except that this one listed his address in green ink as: _The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea_. Harry flipped it over to see that it too was sealed with a purple wax seal bearing what Harry figured was the Hogwarts coat of arms. He quickly opened the letter and saw that it contained the same letter, list of supplies, and train ticket as the one he had first got.

Looking back up at the giant-man, Harry saw that Hagrid, tongue between teeth, was scribbling a note that Harry could read upside down.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well._

_Hagrid_

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Enough of this nonsense," Uncle Vernon hissed. "Haven't I told you he's not going? He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and -"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had! Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. "NEVER…" he thundered, "INSULT… ALBUS… DUMBLEDORE… IN… FRONT… OF… ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley. There was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them. Harry stared blankly at the door as his head was filled with Tom's cackling.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. "Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

_You can… say that… again!_ Tom managed to get out between his laughing and Harry finally felt a few snickers pass his own lips as the shock wore off.

Hagrid cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows. "Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm, er, not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff. One o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well. I was at Hogwarts meself but I, er, got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

Harry considered asking him why he got expelled, but Tom pointed out that the "half-giant", as he called him, was embarrassed and probably wouldn't want any reminders. Instead he asked, "So, you are going to help me get my school supplies?"

"Yeah, too late to go now. Best sleep here." Hagrid took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry. "You can kip under that. Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

* * *

Tom couldn't help but chuckle as Harry all but skipped down the steps in front of the large white building they had just left. The boy was far more excited about being a wizard after a good nights sleep and a chance to let it all sink in. Once they had woken up, Hagrid had led them into London to a shop lined street called Diagon Alley hidden behind a magic pup named the Leaky Cauldron. They had quickly passed all the shops on the way in and had focused on the white building, which was Gringotts, the wizard bank. The place was run by goblins and utilized an underground vault system. It also, according to Hagrid, is "the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe. 'Cept maybe Hogwarts."

Harry had found the place interesting, but Tom was still a little annoyed by the horror that was the stupid underground carts. Hagrid had led them into the vault Harry's parents had left for him and helped them gather some of the gold, silver, and bronze coins wizards used for money into a bag. Though, when the half-giant said they'd had enough, Tom encouraged Harry to grab a few more handfuls just in case they wanted anything that wasn't on the school supplies list. It's not like they didn't have some money to spare. Tom wasn't sure what the conversion rate between galleons and pounds were, but he was pretty sure a vault filled with gold made a person well off. Especially considering that when Tom asked the goblin if all of Harry's parent's money was in the vault as Hagrid got back into the cart, the goblin said there were three more vaults that Harry would gain access to only after he became of age along with two more vaults filled with priceless Potter family heirlooms. A privilege of being the only child in a very long line of purebloods, the goblin informed him.

Tom was still curious about the little package Hagrid had picked up from another vault before they returned to the surface, but allowed it to slide as Harry started glancing around Diagon Alley. Before the older boy could recommend an option, Hagrid nodded towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and said, "Might as well get yer uniform. Listen, Harry would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry

entered Madam Malkin's shop alone. Sensing Harry's nervousness, Tom took control.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed in mauve robes. "Hogwarts, dear?" she asked. "Got the lot here. Another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Tom sent the woman a charming smile. "I am here for Hogwarts. However, as I've just entered the wizarding world, I was also hoping to pick up more than just a few school robes. One must be prepared for all occasions. Of course, a beautiful, well-dressed woman such as yourself must already know this."

The witch flustered at the compliment and quickly helped Tom in his shopping. Aside for the Hogwarts uniform, Tom and Harry also selected a few casual robes in shades of black, dark green (Tom's choice), and navy (Harry's) along with an emerald set of dress robes (Tom got away with the color as they only needed one and, as the witch helpfully pointed out, the color went with Harry's eyes), a plain black traveling cloak, a pair of black leather boots, and a matching belt. After discovering the shop also sold more casual, muggle-esque clothing, they also got some new shirts, pants, a hooded jacket, and a new set of trainers. To Harry's embarrassment, Tom also ordered new underwear, though Harry had to admit it was nice to be getting clothing that were actually his and not just Dudley's hand-me-downs.

Once everything was picked out and Tom had paid for the school uniform, the cost for the rest would be withdrawn from their vault when the clothes were finished and ready to be owl mailed to Harry, Madam Malkin led Tom to the back of the shop. There, a pale boy with a pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Tom on a stool next to the boy, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," Tom said. eyeing the boy.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy said in a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Tom was strongly reminded of Dudley, selfish with a touch of pompous. At least the boy looked smarter. "Won't they have spells or charms to keep you from doing that?"

"Perhaps," the boy said, briefly frowning as if he hadn't considered that before carrying on. "Have you got your own broom?"

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Tom repeated, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I_ do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," Tom said. "I honestly don't know much about Hogwarts. Although both my parents were magic, they died when I was rather young and I was sent to live with some muggle relatives of my mother's. Truth be told, the three were far too stupid to be trusted to know anything about anything so even if they had explained anything about Hogwarts, I wouldn't have really paid attention to them."

The blonde's face scrunched up. "Muggles, then was your mum half-blood or muggle-born?"

"Muggle-born, though my father was pureblood."

"Ah, well that's good," the boy said. "_My_ family's pureblood. Long lines on both sides."

_What on earth are you two going on about?_

_Muggle-born means witches or wizards like your mother who are born to muggles, while purebloods are witches and wizards that are born to witches and wizards, usually in long lines with many generations of magic, like your father. Half-bloods are wizards or witches that are children of a witch or wizard and either a muggle or a muggle-born, like yourself. Many pureblood wizards and witches are concerned about blood purity._

"So how does the housing system in Hogwarts work?" Tom asked.

"Oh, it's simple enough. Students are sorted into four houses: _Slytherin_, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor."

"I suppose you favor Slytherin then," Tom said, noticing the way the boy smiled and spoke when mentioning that house.

"Of course. I know I'll be there, all my family has been. Slytherin stands for cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition."

Tom nodded, those did sound like good traits to have. "And what do the other houses stand for?"

"Ravenclaw is wit, learning, and wisdom. Dad says they're just a bunch of book worms, but mom says that some of the smartest people come out of there. Hufflepuffs are supposed to value hard work, patience, loyalty, and fair play or something, but everyone knows they're just the leftovers that don't fit anywhere else. Gryffindor is courage, chivalry and determination. Slytherin and Gryffindor have a big rivalry that's rumored to go all the way back to the founders of the school and houses, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin."

Tom nodded as he took in the new information. "And where do Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stand in the rivalry?"

"Mostly just stay out of it usually. The Ravenclaws are too focused on their books and Hufflepuffs like everyone or something. So where do you think you'll be?"

"Hm, I'm not sure. They all have good characteristics, and more than likely flaws as well."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there. Name's Malfoy by the way, Draco Malfoy." The boy said holding out the arm the seamstress wasn't working on.

Tom shook it, simply saying, "Harry." He'd rather not have a repeat of what happened in the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't think Draco, as above-all as he acted, would react like that, but he'd rather not risk the women with the needles in their hands becoming surprised.

"I say, look at that man!" said Draco suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Tom and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," Tom said. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," the blonde said, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper."

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage, lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"He's not that bad. He's the one who brought me here from my muggle family," Tom said.

Before either boy could say anything else, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," signalling the end of his fitting for the school robes, which had been magically tailored as the fitting went on, and the measuring for his other clothes.

After stepping off the footstool and thanking the woman, Tom said, "I'll see you at Hogwarts then."

"I suppose," Draco drawled, but Tom noticed it was slightly friendlier than it had been when Tom first walked up. He'd have to remember this Malfoy boy.

As the stepped out of the shop, Tom stepped back to let Harry take over as they met Hagrid and took one of the ice creams.

* * *

"Thank you so much Hagrid, she's beautiful," Harry once more thanked the half-giant, staring at the beautiful snowy owl the man had bought him as a birthday present. The had just finished up gathering almost all the supplies on the list, they just needed his wand, and Hagrid had offered to buy Harry an animal as the list gave students an option to bring one. Hagrid had declared an owl the best option as they were useful for mail. Tom had wanted a snake, but apparently that was not one of the allowed animals.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now. Only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly. _Can this guy get any creepier?_

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink.

_Apparently that's a yes._

_Want me to take over, treasure?_

_No, I'm good. I think._

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it. It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

_Woah, okay, back up there you! _Tom said, and Harry had to force Tom back from taking control, almost missing what the wandmaker said next.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er, yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now, Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er, well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry in different areas as he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

_The guy could at least take this thing with him_, Tom huffed, momentarily taking control to swat at the annoying tape thing responded by flicking his head. _Why you-_

"That will do," Ollivander said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try…"

Harry tried, but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

Harry continued trying the wands, but the pile of rejected wands continued to grow. A few wands did seem to react to Harry, like they were choosing him, only for them to reject Tom a second later. Likewise, there were a few wands that reacted to Tom, but rejected Harry. It was all starting to feel rather tedious to the older boy.

_Can't we just pick one already? And why's he so happy?_ Tom asked and Harry barely kept the boy's glare from reaching the surface as he watched the man grow happier and happier as the wands continued to be tossed aside.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now… Yes, why not… Unusual combination… Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of silver and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

_Why does it matter? It's finally over! Let's just get out of here and away from this madman._

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather. Just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed. Tom facepalmed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered.

_Can we go _now_?_

_Yeah, let's get out of here_, Harry agreed. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

* * *

The fact that young Voldy was a "Prince Charming" like character, with him being handsome and charismatic, is one of my favorite things so I couldn't help but make Tom the same.


End file.
